Rine’s Bar

Several hours and a lengthy discussion into the complex world of finance later, the merchants stood at the door to Rine's bar, each consumed by their dreams and visions of what promised to be a much brighter future.

Coop, Frye, and Fox expressed their appreciation to the chesch, then met up with their respective entourage, eager to get to work on establishing the empire they envisioned. Backed by Damah Dumm's money and name, there was little chance of the rouge merchants not joining up if they did not want to be left behind.

Of course, a large part of this Union's existence still depended on the quick transportation methods proposed by the Hopeful Maggots. When the Maggots brought them to fruition, no merchant with half a brain cell would refuse to enter the Union.

Miote watched the merchants leave, a satisfied smile masking the relief he felt inside. Of all the assignments the young man had carried out in his life, this task of watching Suzuki Mato had proved to be the most challenging of all. It frequently kept him on his toes and demanded quick thinking to adapt to the craziness that was Mato's alter ego. ‘ Well, I suppose that is why it is also so much fun.’ Miote snickered to himself.

Miote turned to the only guest left, the man who had made this meeting much easier than it ever could have been, Damah Dumm. Unlike the other merchants who had scores of guards awaiting them outside, there seemed to be no one waiting for the esteemed great merchant. Miote smiled and then held out his hand as he said, "I trust this was not a waste of your time?"

"No, quite the contrary actually," Damah amicably said, taking the chesch's hand in a firm grip. "This has been quite the eye-opener. My horizons have been broadened beyond my wildest imaginations." He paused, a hesitant look in his eyes. "I will provide whatever monetary assistance you require. I only ask one thing of you."

"Speak your mind," Miote encouraged. So far, despite Damah Dumm's considerable wealth, he had shown himself to be a man of humble character and virtue. As a result, the chesch had formed a good impression of the mertian. Miote doubted he would make untoward requests.

Damah, Dumm nodded. "Wealth, like you said, is indeed a great thing, giving man increasing choices of wants the richer he is." His gaze turned grave. "But at the same time, it is the most deadly virus, infecting all who get a taste without fail. Very few are immune to its plague; even less can be cured after being consumed by greed."

Damah Dumm’s expression softened, a small smile spreading as the heavy sounds of massive flapping wings closed in on them. However, neither man paid heed; their attention focused on their conversation. "Something tells me you are one of those immune to its virus. Which is why I can ask this of you." The ground trembled slightly as the wings' owner dropped to the earth and walked up to the two men. "When this Union grows large and successful, as the guild with the highest shares, I ask that you ensure the interest of the common man remains one of our topmost priorities."

Miote spared a glance at the massive griffin next to Damah. The beast was majesty in every sense of the word, from its royal blue gaze to the way it carried itself with pride, neck straight, gaze looking down at the chesch as it would a maggot upon the road. The chesch's lip curved upwards as he praised, "Impressive beast." His gaze returned to Damah as he promised, "As long as I live, I will ensure we do not become consumed by greed."

Damah took the griffin by the reins and hopped onto its back. He grinned down at the chesch as he said, "Considering how long the records claim you Summoned live, I should have nothing to fear, at least in this lifetime." He fished into a set of bags hanging by the saddle and took out a bunch of badges. He picked three from the pile and tossed them to the chesch.

Miote caught the badges and glanced at them with curiosity. The badges, one platinum, one gold, and the last, silver, had emblems of a bow and arrow placed on a pawprint. Miote, clueless as to its purpose, cast a searching gaze at the merchant. "What are these?"

"Badges of the Hunters' Brotherhood." At Miote's blank expression, Damah's eyes widened in genuine surprise. "Your guild leader did not tell you?" Miote's answer was a half-smirk that reeked of resignation. "I heard your guild leader was reticent, but it would seem the report was quite modest," murmured Damah, slightly amused. "The Hunters' Brotherhood is an organization of elite freelancers who, in one way or another, scour through the land for ways to improve the lives of inhabitants. Our members range from tavern owners like Muko to merchants like myself and warriors who subjugate monsters terrorizing villages. We barely ask anything of our members, save sharing information at discounted prices."

Damah pointed at the badges in the chesch's hand, saying with a chuckle, "The gold is for the daeben. With how quickly the lad is rising in ranks, other hunters may soon come to seek him out. For what purpose will be up to the individual." He then pointed at the silver. "The silver is for you, while the platinum is for Ms. Lightwood of your guild. She has proven to be beyond calculations time and time again, so it is only fair she receives the highest rank." His eyes flashed with hidden light. "For a first promotion, yours and Ms. Lightwood's positions will draw many eyes who will be awaiting your eventual downfall. It is my prayer these badges serve as sources of motivation, not shackles."

Danah Dumm bid his goodbye with those words then kicked into the sky, soon disappearing into the horizon.

Muko, who had been watching the meeting from his doorway, hid a smile as he glanced at the gold badge in the chesch's hand. "To think the lad would come this far so soon. Hehe, I wonder how long he’ll take to get the orichalcum badge." He cast his gaze towards the north, where a great battle was surely on the verge of beginning. "Survive this, lad."

----------------------------------------

Three Days Later,

27 th Muriel, 1093.

5 Kilometers North of Aygorzi

Orthana and the chiefs under her stood before a war table planning their attack mode, the atmosphere thick with oppressive breaths of pending bloodshed. Through Larsial's anima scout, they already had an accurate map of Second Under spread out before them. Unfortunately, it seemed the dwarves were on high alert as all further anima scouts had been shot down from the sky, preventing any more information from leaking.

Orthana was also aware Ruse's army was similarly stationed just a few kilometers away from the Citadel's South Gate and was only waiting on her army to get ready. It just so happened she too was waiting for someone. She raised her gaze from the chart as a messenger entered the tent.

With a nod from his commanding officer, the soldier quickly reported, "Warlord Olgar Ri—"

"HAHAHA! Sheri-kun! Long Time, No Smell!" Bone-Cage Olgar Ritz guffawed proudly as he confidently strode into the tent like it was his backyard. He slapped the messenger's back, nearly killing the poor man in the process as he praised, "Excellent service lad." His voice suddenly dropped several decibels as he ordered, "You're dismissed!"

Orthana frowned, but only nodded at the panicked soldier, granting him release. Only after the soldier had gone did she speak, voice laden with simmering rage, "Do not order my soldiers."

Olgar's toothy grin faltered for a second, a sinister light momentarily flashing past his eyes. But only a moment later, the grin returned as he soothed the halben, "Sheri-kun, we're old friends. I'll admit I overstepped my bounds. It won't happen again." Without waiting for Orthana's reply, he walked up to the opposite end of the table and examined the map placed on it. His eyes widened with shock as he glanced at the halben opposite. "Is this real? Can see that wall all the way from here, and you're saying there's three of those?"

"Unfortunately so," Orthana confirmed. "Which was why I requested you bring siege weapons. I trust you had no problem?"

"What do you take me for?" Olgar teased with a shake of his head. "Still have the stock I plundered from that daeben ruin. It should be more than enough to take down this wall." He shrugged. "Even in the event they fail, you still have me. There's no wall I cannot bypass."

Orthana nodded as she recalled the reason he was nicknamed Bone-Cage. Indeed with Olgar around, there would be no need to fear any wall no matter the size. "On my side, I have three Ancient Salamanders over four hundred years old."

"Indeed, I saw those monstrosities on my way in," Olgar acknowledged. "I did bring some extra mounts. Not enough to outfit your entire army, but just about enough for an elite force."

"What about rations?"

"Heh, there is a constant supply chain between Diralis and us. I doubt we would run out of rations before those holed up dwarfs do."

"Good," Orthana acknowledged. "We intend to bring a swift conclusion to this battle. But we must prepare for the event we fail to do so."

"Hmph," Olgar snorted, "With me around, this battle will not go beyond a day." With those words, he snarled a goodbye and then left to inspect the seige weapons. At the current rate, they should be done by the morning.

None in the sprawling campsite were aware of the two pairs of eyes watching them from a hill over 500 meters away.

----------------------------------------

Two Hours Till Dawn,

Ayorian Citadel

If one were to drill a hole from the throne in the castle above ground, down, in a straight line, they would be shocked to find lots of metal wires leading several feet into the ground, branching off in a thousand different directions, but with a section always going straight down. This hypothetical digger would suddenly find himself suspended over the dwarven throne in the underground city. He would then notice the wires spread out like a net over the entire throne room and then coalesce beneath the throne.

But that would still not be the end. The wires would then continue downwards for several hundreds of feet, their density and strength getting stronger the further down they went. The seemingly endless journey would then culminate in a hidden chamber where a massive thirty-foot mana crystal hovered at the center of a cavern. The mana pulsing from it was so thick that it was visible to the human eye as blue streams of light.

Below this crystal was a six-foot model of the entire city—underground and aboveground walls included—with many parts that invisible to those on the surface. Around this model city stood the dwarven council, accompanied by Kashi, Absalon, and Kira. The red general, outfitted in the original Nightwolf set, albeit painted red, stood arms folded, intense gaze traveling among the men and women around the model. "So, are we agreed?"

Yngvar frowned as he glanced at the hovering crystal. "You are sure about its consumption rate."

This content has been unlawfully taken from Royal Road; report any instances of this story if found elsewhere.

"We are sure," Otto Knutsen confirmed.

Sighing, Yngvar faced Absalon with a regretful gaze. "I agree."

Brexio Rocha harrumphed as he balanced a war ax on his shoulder. "Don't care long as we win."

"I am in agreement," Ulla Tav stated.

"No issues," Paaie Nilsen confirmed.

All eyes then turned to the Dwarven King.

King Anton Xafier sent a searching gaze the daeben's way. At Kashi's subtle nod, he announced, "We are all in agreement. We follow the plans agreed upon in this room..." He paused, taking a deep breath. His eyes snapped open with a determined glint, his voice thunderous as he commanded, "General Absalon shall take supreme command over this operation. Do you accept?"

Absalon nearly raised his hand to head out of habit. With a solemn gaze, he crossed his right arm across his chest in the customary Destian salute as he responded, "I accept! I swear to lead our collective forces to victory."

Anton nodded. "One more thing. Your scouts, Iralu, and Corinne? They have provided a great service to our kingdom with their bravery. Upon their return, please have them come before the council to receive rewards befitting their service."

The young scouts had tailed Orthana's army expertly till they met up with the waiting Olgar Ritz's army. They then accurately reported the numbers and some of the siege weapons they could make out, then retreated before the situation got too hairy. All in all, it was a tremendous service worthy of recognition and promotion. Absalon already made a mental note to promote the two upon their return. Being rewarded by the Dwarven King was a bonus he would not refuse them.

"I will be sure to let them know," promised Absalon.

Kashi, who had fashioned himself a new set of black leather top and pants from the hydra's pelt and scales, suddenly spoke. "It is almost dawn. If there is nothing else, we should get going."

The dwarfs turned to the daeben, still in disbelief over what he considered as armor. He looked less like the leader of the world's greatest guild and more like a minimalist assassin from all angles. Heck, even the professional assassin in his crew, Shadow, sported an actual decent set of armor.

The dwarfs chose not to voice their misgivings as they had already gotten used to the daeben's peculiarities. One of which included spending just over twenty-four hours with Jerxas within a locked room from which frequent bursts of mana, shouts, and creepy laughter echoed.

With the council’s approval, Kashi led them out of the chamber, as a great door that required the king's aura to open shut behind them. The daeben took slow, purposeful steps as he ascended the steps, checking his inventory to ensure he did not forget anything, and psyching himself up for the battle that was to come.

Kashi pulled the shirt's low hanging cowl over his head and raised the mask just past his nose as he reached the level inhabited by dwarfs.

Witnessing the dark aura that began unconsciously leaking from Kashi, Anton and the dwarfs finally understood why the daeben did not bother dressing stylishly despite being a leader. Rather than the usual guild leader image, the aura of death that so naturally leaked out of the daeben was more than enough to demand, capture, and maintain the attention of all who turned his way.

Kashi, oblivious to the dwarfs' feelings, continued his trek through the dwarven settlement, seemingly purposely taking the scenic route. Along the way, companies of dwarfs who had been waiting in specific locations joined the procession, keeping pace with the determined daeben, the slow march silently viewed by the old and young who could not join the battle.

There were no shouts of encouragement, cries of despair, or humongous battle cries. The air of solemnity and determination hung thick in the caverns, the dwarfs' resolve transmitted throughout like sparks through metal.

No words were needed, nor were tears shed on this day as the brave men and women of Aygoria made their way to the surface where a battle for survival or extinction awaited them.

On their path, the Maggots and Orchestra Troupe, who arrived two days prior, joined the march, likewise solemn and quiet.

Kashi eventually led them to the exit located within the palace, where he stepped aside for a brief moment, allowing Anton to open the door with his aura. This secret path was intended for the king and his subjects to escape from in times of conflict. But the daeben had his reasons for following it on this day.

The door slid open to reveal the procession right behind the throne. Kashi walked forward, nary a word as he lightly brushed his palm against the armrest. Just as his fingers were about to leave the throne, he whispered, "For Our Land."

Anton, who was right behind, similarly brushed his fingers against the throne as he passed, heart heavy and eyes moist with unshed tears as he whispered, "For Our Land."

Behind him, Absalon brushed his fingers past the throne, similarly swearing under his breath, "For Our Land."

At the opposite end, Syèl stared at the throne, complex emotions in his eyes. Taking a deep breath, he brushed his fingers past the armrest and whispered, "For Our Land."

Behind him, a drakul warrior struggled to hold back his tears as he muttered, "F-For Our Land."

That was right. The drakul did not have to struggle, fight, or kill for food and shelter anymore. They had land—a home. Society accepted the former outcasts. Although the drakul had known this reality for a few months… to be able to say it out loud; to have others say the same as them.

"For Our Land," a Summoned by the name of Creepy_Dudette muttered as her fingers brushed past the throne. She, who had entered this world for shits and giggles, almost could not believe how much pride she felt from those three words.

"For our Land," another Summoned by the name of JWSilver whispered as he brushed past the throne. To him, who had entered this world solely as a means to earn money for his numerous In-Real-Life (IRL) commitments, participating in this war should never have happened. Yet as he spoke those words, he understood why he was here at this moment in time. His worries would still be there when he awoke, but right here with these people he had suffered dangers and ground levels with... This was his land. His people.

Heh...

One after another, over ten thousand men and women whispered those sacred words, their minds though filled with thousands of different worries and fears, were united by the strong bond that tied their hearts together.

Within thirty minutes, every soldier was mounted and perfectly lined up in front of the castle.

Drixlia, whose frame was covered with so much armor a trebuchet would have better luck aiming at the walls, pawed the ground as Kashi, seated on its back, cast his gaze over the ten thousand strong men and women.

Kashi did not know what he felt at this moment, as never in their three lives had his brothers felt anything close to this. The burdens, hopes, dreams, expectations of over ten thousand people weighed down heavy, threatening to crush his shoulders, but the daeben sat tall, blood-red gaze washing over the troops.

Voice solemn, as if in prayer, the leader of the Hopeful Maggots addressed the army, "Just as you have sworn to protect this land, So shall your voices never tire, your sword-hand never weaken, and your shield never falter." Voice rising, he challenged, "Today we swore to protect our land. Our! That means each and every one of us. Be we dwarfs, halbens, daebens, wisben, human, or drakul. This is our land! One in which we shall not only live as free men but prosper and grow, together, towards a great future.

“By tonight, our land will be soaked with blood and razed by fire. This is the price we will have to pay for our liberty. BUT I put it to you, no matter the outcome of this battle, I will celebrate or perish with a smile, for today, I have gained ten thousand brothers. I will bring out the brother in me and fight with those by my side like they were my blood—no! You are my blood. You are my brothers! The Unity we seek can only be realized through the sacrifice each one of us; each of our brothers will make for this land."

Kashi's voice dropped, akin to a growl. "Stomp your feet!"

boom

"Louder!"

BOOM!

"LOUDER!"

BOOM! BOOM! BOOM! BOOM!

"What is that beneath your feet?"

"Our Land!"

"For Whom Do We Fight?"

"Our Home"

"With Whom Do We Fight?"

"Our Brothers!"

Kashi chuckled, a wicked glint in his eyes as he scanned the army. "At the end of today, what will we have?"

The soldiers faltered, unsure of how to answer. It was at this moment, a Summoned by the name of HulkMagnet stepped forward, "Permission to speak, sir!"

Intrigued, Kashi turned to the young soldier. "Permission Granted."

HulkMagnet's green eyes shone, his lips curled in a nasty smirk as he said, "I hear Merriheim's Lands are Not Fertile, Sir! By the end of the day, we shall have a ton of Fertilizer, Sir!"

Kashi's eyes shone as a glorious chant echoed throughout the ranks from those words. "FER-TI-LI-ZER!" "FER-TI-LI-ZER!" "FER-TI-LI-ZER!" "FER-TI-LI-ZER!"

It was a nonsensical, insulting chant that none would expect of a civilized army. But, just as the Maggots’ unlikely was destined to spread across the land, so would this iconic chant. Bards would sing of it in folksongs, and history books would regale this as one of the most iconic chants of its generation.

With a maniacal chuckle, Kashi ordered, "You heard the man! We lack fertilizers for our crops. Go get us some!"

With roars that shook the very foundation of the earth, the army split into two. Kashi, Shadow, and the Drakul headed for the south gate while the rest thundered towards the north to clash with Orthana and Olgar.

Soon, the only ones remaining were Lunette and the orchestra, who started setting up their equipment. The songstress clasped her hands together as she offered a prayer for her men, that they returned to her as healthy as they left.

"Ms. Falsetto," Lufer, the orchestra leader, called.

"Coming." Lunette cast one last glance towards the south and then walked to the conductor who held a conspicuous microphone shaped object in his hand. Lunette’s gaze sharpened as she received the mic. Everyone had their battles to fight.

This would be hers.

Soon, with the rising dawn, over twenty-five thousand men and women faced each other, loud drums announcing the start of bloodshed.